“Speak, my brave fellow.”
“Ah! Monsieur, will you not give me a message for Monsieur d’Escorval? Any insignificant message—inform him of the prisoner’s escape. I will be the bearer of the message, and then—Oh! fear nothing, Monsieur; I will be prudent.”
“Very well!” replied the judge.
When he left the office of his chief, Lecoq was fully authorized to proceed with his investigations, and in his pocket was a note for M. d’Escorval from M. Segmuller. His joy was so intense that he did not deign to notice the sneers which were bestowed upon him as he passed through the corridors. On the threshold his enemy Gevrol, the so-called general, was watching for him.
“Ah, ha!” he laughed, as Lecoq passed out, “here is one of those simpletons who fish for whales and do not catch even a gudgeon.”
For an instant Lecoq was angry. He turned abruptly and looked Gevrol full in the face.
“That is better than assisting prisoners to carry on a surreptitious correspondence with people outside,” he retorted, in the tone of a man who knows what he is saying.
In his surprise, Gevrol almost lost countenance, and his blush was equivalent to a confession.
But Lecoq said no more. What did it matter to him now if Gevrol had betrayed him! Was he not about to win a glorious revenge?
He spent the remainder of the day in preparing his plan of action, and in thinking what he should say when he took M. Segmuller’s note to Maurice d’Escorval.